


Minewt Drabbles and One shots

by orphan_account



Category: the maze runner
Genre: #Enjoy, #can be sad, #could be happy, #no clue, #random, #what I was thinking, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5733085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a bunch of Minewt one shots for whenever there comes a time I think of one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minewt Drabbles and One shots

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING!  
> Major Character death, Death Cure spoilers, 
> 
> TRIGGER!WARNING  
> Mentions of Depression, suicide, body horror

It had been weeks since Thomas shot Newt, and Thomas never quite had the nerve to tell Minho, that he was the one who put the bullet through his friend’s head; his best friend’s boyfriend.

Minho had found out himself, finding the note that Thomas clung on to that he refused to look at and yet refused to dispose of. Scrawled on it read, “ _ **kill me** , if you’ve ever been my friend **kill me**_.” In only messy handwriting one specific blond could write with. The note was tattered and ripped now, being  only a fragile physical reminder of the infected teen.

Minho the note he had found the note broke down, clutching it tightly in his palm as he choked out quiet sorries for not being there, not being able to outstretch a hand or hold the Brit.

Newt didn’t want to watch his lover cry pointless nights over his death. That wasn’t Minho, it wasn’t. Minho wasn’t weak, but when it came to Newt’s death, he cried until he couldn’t anymore.

Tonight was another one of those nights, where Minho would settle into his bed in paradise. Setting a pillow down beside him where Newt should be and straddling it close to himself. He so badly tried wiping the tears, but his ghostly fingertips did nothing to stop them from running down the olive skin.

“Minho. Please. I’m right here, right in front of you!” Newt cried out, desperately trying to reach out to the asian and reassure him. He’d do this every night, falling asleep beside Minho like he should be in reality. His wings outstretched and covered Minho like a blanket in their delicate down and feathers.

A few times Newt swore Minho’s seen him, or at least _felt_ him. Because some nights he’d fall asleep peacefully, with a soft smile on his face as Newt would coax and coo in his ear.

Newt remained on earth, a sad and lost soul caught in between the real world and the after-life.

Strolling around with Minho, not having to worry about his limp anymore. He knows Minho can’t see him, but it makes them both feel whole.

Newt would even visit Thomas too, who was just as sad as Minho. He tried being happy, tried to push Newt aside. But he could never forget the pleading cries that came from his friend, the relief on said friend’s face when he fell to the ground with a hole pierced in his forehead.

He won’t forget the heavy feeling in his chest when he heard Newt’s final exhale or of his body falling to the ground. Because it was on replay whenever he closed his eyes. Constantly reminding him that he had his best friend’s blood on his hands.

Paradise was suppose to be a happy place, where they’d finally be safe from W.C.K.D. But they’d never be safe from themselves, from their memories of their friends, dying in their grasps.

That was until one day, when the gun that had killed Newt was finally found. Newt could only watch the scene, screaming out and praying someone would stop them. “Don’t you shanks even try it! Put down the bloody gun!” He sobbed, but they couldn’t hear him.

One loud bang, one body cold on the floor. Another, another loud bang as the wielder of the gun collapsed onto the ground as well. Everyone comes running then, at the first gunshot. Looking at the two bodies in horror, Brenda, Gally and Frypan rushing in to see their friends motionless body.

Newt only knelt beside their bodies, hanging his head as he sobbed, until he felt a hand clap onto his shoulder. Behind him was two teen boys, with tear-streaked cheeks but shit eating grins on their faces. “We’re right here Newt..” Thomas said softly, his voice cracking.

Minho only embraced Newt into a hug, burying his face into the blond’s neck. “I knew you were there with me those nights.. I just had that gut instinct..” He murmured, Newt only nodding, as he rubbed the asian’s back returning the hug tightly.

Pulling away, he did the same with Thomas. “I never had a chance to say Thank you..” Newt said quietly, pulling away to look at the both of them.

_The ivy trio was back together, even in their ghostly forms._

_more importantly Minho and Newt were back together, without a worry of one another's well being or having to run._


End file.
